Sweeter
by francaiskiss
Summary: Music can convey so much...
1. I Want You She's So Heavy

I Want You (She's So Heavy)- The Beatles

Arthur momentarily lost his breath as he was manhandled and slammed against the horribly wallpapered wall of the private restrooms in the United Nations. He gasped roughly, his throat closing from lack of oxygen; he "Fucking sod, I-", he was interrupted by a frenzied kiss that stole the Englishman's breath- and whatever insult he was about to say-away from him. Alfred pulled away sharply, causing their connected lips to separate with a wet 'pop'. Arthur blush furiously.

It was quiet for a moment as the two blondes stared intensely at one another, the sterile room was silent save for their hurried breathing. Alfred reached for the Brit's face and pulled him forward as if to kiss him again. Instead he let his lips hover over Arthur's; his warm breathe ghosting over Arthur's trembling lips, "I want you."

Their lips collided once more and Arthur reached up to run his finger's through his former ward's permanently disheveled hair, ever mindful of Nantucket. America ran his tongue along Arthur's plump bottom lip and pulled away once more, aggravating the Brit who growled and tried to pull the American back to him. But, Al held strong and leaned over to kiss his lover's forehead. "I want you so bad."

"Then _have _me, you f-" Alfred once again cut Arthur off and ravaged his mouth. Arthur thrust his hips forward and gasped at the sensory overload of his freshly ironed suit, Alfred's denim-he had long given up on getting the American to not wear Levis to meetings- and the very obvious presence of his-_ah!_

It was now Alfred's turn to gasp as he pulled back. Arthur chuckled, finding his advantage. "You're driving me mad, love."

Arthur decided he would have to initiate arguments with Germany during conferences more often…

**FrKs: ****Er. Hi. First time author, long time lurker. I love the Beatles and I thought this song was absolutely perfect for the two little bitchy nations. I know it's super lame but, this is just something to get me started. If it's not obvious already- it's un-betaed (wtf is that even a word?). I am making no profit whatsoever on this...likez I said, I wuz bored. Feedback is appreciated but not required. 3**


	2. Mother

**FrKs: ****Grrrrr. This document editer thing keeps fucking my documents up.**

Mother- Pink Floyd

Matthew looked timidly up at Arthur and blushed. Why now, of all the times before, did his ex-caretaker take notice of his relationship with France? "It's nothing serious, Arthur."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, " Listen, Matthew, I have known that bloody frog for a very long time and I've seen what he is capable of when it comes to the affairs of the…heart."

The Canadian swallowed and gently pulled his arm out of Arthur's grasp. "When you and Al got together, I didn't object."

"Why would you, Matthew? This is hardly the same -"

"Really?", Matt snapped with a venom he didn't know he possessed.

Arthur's emerald eyes widened ." Francis is dangerous. He isn't good for you-"

Matt had heard enough. "I am more than capable of deciding what is and isn't healthy for me, England ."

The air was tense. Matthew felt he should apologize for speaking Arthur's real name in public but, he could already see the damage on Arthur's flushed face. Matthew sighed, "Arthur…I'm not a baby anymore. I'm not your responsibility. I know you love me but…"

Arthur blinked as the Canadian trailed off. "This can only end in tears, lad."

He just smiled sadly and stared down at his worn Nikes. "Maybe…but, I need to learn it for myself."

He turned and made his way towards the front lobby of the UN. Arthur remained still, watching his retreating fellow nation's back. He smiled a small smile and turned the opposite way, making his way back to the meeting room where he left his other former charge talking a somber Kiku's ear off. As he came upon the double doors of the auditorium, he whistled the words to a song from some musical album his people had created during the seventies…which was a miracle in itself seeing how he barely could remember anything about the seventies other than glitter and Elton John.

…_you'll always be baby to me…_

_**FrKs**_**: Everyone could use a little Canada love. I've always thought that Arthur would be very protective of his adopted excolony. Kind of like how fathers are with their daughters or mothers with their sons. This song is just amazing anyway and I love that last ...I'm pretty sure I've embarassed myself enough for one night...**


	3. Videotape

**FrKs: ****This drabble is based on 9/11. Be prepared for angst. This- like all Americans- is a very sore subject for me. America is not a weak nation and I don't wish to upset anyone but, this is just my perspective of the country's/ Alfred's immediate shock and suffering after the attacks.**

Videotape- Radiohead

Alfred smiled weakly and shook the foreign dignitaries' hand before moving onto the next, and the next, and the next…

As long as he kept that fake, but perfected, smile, he would be fine. But, any other crack and he would fall apart. He couldn't sleep. Every time he tried, he dreamed of fire and broken windows. Glass and blood. And ash…so much ash. He could still smell it. No matter how many times he washed his clothes or sheets, he could still smell that thick dust invading his lungs; choking him.

He longed to be alone…it was worse when he was alone though. When it was quiet and the shadows in his mind would grow and alter the silence into screams and sirens. Collapsing. Falling. Bleeding. Darkness.

He wasn't aware he had started crying until, the Secret Service rushed him out of the room full of press and diplomats. He barely made it into the small bathroom reserved for the elite in the Oval Office before he fell forward, clutching the porcelain counter of the sink and vomiting stomach acid and coffee into the pristine basin. He was aware of gentle fingers pulling away his hair and removing his glasses that were close to falling into the sink as well. He didn't have to look to see who it was. He was always there and as much as Arthur's touch burned, it soothed as well, like alcohol on a cut.

Alfred knew before long that it would be out. America was weak from the attack. Vulnerable and pathetic. He sobbed, clenching his eyes as if to stop the tears. Arthur was quick to embrace the broken nation. "Shh, shh, it's alright, Love. I'm here…they're going to pay. Baby, I promise…" Arthur's own voice cracked and he rubbed soothing circles on his lovers broad shoulders, letting Alfred have a moment of private suffering.

Alfred choked, "Don't leave me Iggy, God please don't leave me-"

Arthur lowered the both of them to tiled floor, letting Alfred put his whole weight against him. "I'll never leave you, Alfred. I'm here. I'm here."

**FrKs****; Thanks to those of you who faved or put an alert on my story. Much love!**


End file.
